The_Magician
First Post
Game title: "A Tale That Wasn't Right"
Level: 5th
Number of Players: 5
Deadline for applications: 10th of September
Complete information: marianarpg.tripod.com/index.html
Send any doubts to: henriquefd@terra.com.br
Introduction:
A shadowy figure sits by the open arched window, high up the tower, watching the night rain washing down the stone bodies of the gargoyles of Nothredame Castle. The flashing of thunder and lightning reveals details of the surroundings hidden by the darkness of the night, showing the small woods around the castle; the thin stream of water going downhill, along the road and into the city; the roofs of the many houses; the bell tower from the Laguna Temple; and much further back, the Colloseum. His eyes then scan beyond the city walls and into the horizon, and he squints while fixing at a certain point. Making humming sounds with his throat, he passes his bony hand continuously down his long white beard, deep in thought and anxiously anticipating something.
Then a sudden fluttering of wings is heard, and an owl flies through the window, landing on the small round table infront of him and breaking his concentration while turning his attention to it. Shaking the water out of its feathers and welcoming the warmth of the oil lamp by its side, the owl stares at its old master and begins to speak. Taking a slow deep breath, the old man bobs his head in acknowledgement and whispers.
"Finally..", and rubbing two fingers at the mouth of his pipe - a beautifully carved, curved down, long pipe - he lights it up, pleasurely puffing some smoke out of it, then turns his eyes outside again, nodding and whispering with faint joy. "Finally...they have finally returned!"
Far at the horizon, the flashings from the storm light up the small figure of an advancing carriage, pulled by two stallions along the stone paved road toward the city.
"Yes... yes, they have found it! I can feel it!" he remarks with glee, rubbing the head of the owl, who hoots in return.
His eyes follow the carriage as it crosses the bridge, reaches the gate and goes through it, then takes the main road, driving at full speed amidst the many city houses, the echoeing sound of the horses hooves becoming barely audible and rising the closer the carriage gets. As the guards allow it passage through the castle gates, the old wizard stands up and leans forward on the window, looking down for a better view. A group of four cloacked persons leave the carriage, carrying with them a heavy looking chest, followed by a fifth behind them, and make their way inside the castle building.
Closing his window - which is made from a thick and rugged orange glass, and carries the picture of an owl in the center - the wizard sits back down and waits in silence, petting his owl. Both owl and master enjoy the following minutes of peace, relaxing in the warm round room, with the muffled sound of the rain outside, and as their eyelids get heavy and their heads bend down with drowsiness, a loud knocking at the door awakes them. The old wizard blinks a few times and yawns, then turns to the door and says,
"Come in."
The thick iron door opens, and the four cloacked persons enter the room, putting down the chest on floor, then bowing to the wizard before leaving again. As they leave, the fifth one comes in, and closes the door behind him.
"Well done, Ravellyn." the old wizard says to the person, who removes the dripping wet hood to reveal the face of a beautiful young woman, around her mid-twenties, of a pale white face, thick red lips and a long, curly, blonde hair.
"Thanks, master." she whispers, bowing low.
"So, this is it..." he says, putting down his pipe, getting up and walking to the center of his room, where the rust-covered, dark chest rests on his circular shaped red rug.
"Yes, master." the young woman confirms, and unties the wet cloack around her neck, letting it slide down the floor, then walks to stand between her master and the hearth. With simple hand gestures and the mouthing of a few key words, she unlocks the necessary powers to make the fire in the hearth double in intensity. After rubbing her hands by the fire and warming her blood, she moves to sit at a nearby rocking chair, and observes her master while resting her tired body.
With his back turned to the hearth, the old wizard kneels down and admires his new treasure, passing his skinny, old fingers on the crusty surface of the chest, which seem to reveal a few golden glints amidst all the rust, as it receives the fire light.
"So, this is it..." he repeats himself, and continues "The old relics from a lost temple of a forgotten god..."
With trembling lips, he closes his eyes and rests his hands over the two locks, speaking the magic words in a state of extasy. With his lips still trembling, and tears flowing from his eyes, he looks down at the locks, now resting unlocked on his red rug, then looks at his pupil, the young woman called Ravellyn, and swallows both fear and excitement.
"My child..." he speaks to her in a trembling voice, and notices that she is even more pale than in her natural complexion, as if knowing what her master is about to say. And he continues, speaking exactly what she was fearing, the same fear of the unknown that a child has of the dark.
"After tonight, we may unlock powers once forbidden to us by the gods, ever since the end of the Dark Ages. Powers that we only hear about in minstrels tales..."
Taking a deep breath, the old wizard slowly opens the chest, producing a creepy creaking sound from the rusty hinges. Outside tolls the huge bell from the temple of Laguna, announcing the final hours of the stormy night, while inside the old wizard's room, his owl begins to hoot in a maddened state.
"May the gods forgive us for being so foolish..."
Level: 5th
Number of Players: 5
Deadline for applications: 10th of September
Complete information: marianarpg.tripod.com/index.html
Send any doubts to: henriquefd@terra.com.br
Introduction:
A shadowy figure sits by the open arched window, high up the tower, watching the night rain washing down the stone bodies of the gargoyles of Nothredame Castle. The flashing of thunder and lightning reveals details of the surroundings hidden by the darkness of the night, showing the small woods around the castle; the thin stream of water going downhill, along the road and into the city; the roofs of the many houses; the bell tower from the Laguna Temple; and much further back, the Colloseum. His eyes then scan beyond the city walls and into the horizon, and he squints while fixing at a certain point. Making humming sounds with his throat, he passes his bony hand continuously down his long white beard, deep in thought and anxiously anticipating something.
Then a sudden fluttering of wings is heard, and an owl flies through the window, landing on the small round table infront of him and breaking his concentration while turning his attention to it. Shaking the water out of its feathers and welcoming the warmth of the oil lamp by its side, the owl stares at its old master and begins to speak. Taking a slow deep breath, the old man bobs his head in acknowledgement and whispers.
"Finally..", and rubbing two fingers at the mouth of his pipe - a beautifully carved, curved down, long pipe - he lights it up, pleasurely puffing some smoke out of it, then turns his eyes outside again, nodding and whispering with faint joy. "Finally...they have finally returned!"
Far at the horizon, the flashings from the storm light up the small figure of an advancing carriage, pulled by two stallions along the stone paved road toward the city.
"Yes... yes, they have found it! I can feel it!" he remarks with glee, rubbing the head of the owl, who hoots in return.
His eyes follow the carriage as it crosses the bridge, reaches the gate and goes through it, then takes the main road, driving at full speed amidst the many city houses, the echoeing sound of the horses hooves becoming barely audible and rising the closer the carriage gets. As the guards allow it passage through the castle gates, the old wizard stands up and leans forward on the window, looking down for a better view. A group of four cloacked persons leave the carriage, carrying with them a heavy looking chest, followed by a fifth behind them, and make their way inside the castle building.
Closing his window - which is made from a thick and rugged orange glass, and carries the picture of an owl in the center - the wizard sits back down and waits in silence, petting his owl. Both owl and master enjoy the following minutes of peace, relaxing in the warm round room, with the muffled sound of the rain outside, and as their eyelids get heavy and their heads bend down with drowsiness, a loud knocking at the door awakes them. The old wizard blinks a few times and yawns, then turns to the door and says,
"Come in."
The thick iron door opens, and the four cloacked persons enter the room, putting down the chest on floor, then bowing to the wizard before leaving again. As they leave, the fifth one comes in, and closes the door behind him.
"Well done, Ravellyn." the old wizard says to the person, who removes the dripping wet hood to reveal the face of a beautiful young woman, around her mid-twenties, of a pale white face, thick red lips and a long, curly, blonde hair.
"Thanks, master." she whispers, bowing low.
"So, this is it..." he says, putting down his pipe, getting up and walking to the center of his room, where the rust-covered, dark chest rests on his circular shaped red rug.
"Yes, master." the young woman confirms, and unties the wet cloack around her neck, letting it slide down the floor, then walks to stand between her master and the hearth. With simple hand gestures and the mouthing of a few key words, she unlocks the necessary powers to make the fire in the hearth double in intensity. After rubbing her hands by the fire and warming her blood, she moves to sit at a nearby rocking chair, and observes her master while resting her tired body.
With his back turned to the hearth, the old wizard kneels down and admires his new treasure, passing his skinny, old fingers on the crusty surface of the chest, which seem to reveal a few golden glints amidst all the rust, as it receives the fire light.
"So, this is it..." he repeats himself, and continues "The old relics from a lost temple of a forgotten god..."
With trembling lips, he closes his eyes and rests his hands over the two locks, speaking the magic words in a state of extasy. With his lips still trembling, and tears flowing from his eyes, he looks down at the locks, now resting unlocked on his red rug, then looks at his pupil, the young woman called Ravellyn, and swallows both fear and excitement.
"My child..." he speaks to her in a trembling voice, and notices that she is even more pale than in her natural complexion, as if knowing what her master is about to say. And he continues, speaking exactly what she was fearing, the same fear of the unknown that a child has of the dark.
"After tonight, we may unlock powers once forbidden to us by the gods, ever since the end of the Dark Ages. Powers that we only hear about in minstrels tales..."
Taking a deep breath, the old wizard slowly opens the chest, producing a creepy creaking sound from the rusty hinges. Outside tolls the huge bell from the temple of Laguna, announcing the final hours of the stormy night, while inside the old wizard's room, his owl begins to hoot in a maddened state.
"May the gods forgive us for being so foolish..."
.
